Our Understanding
by xl3utterflyx
Summary: Everyone knew Sakura as a mindless Sasuke-"kun" fangirl and it annoyed her beyond words that Itachi might have seen her in the same light. So she made it her goal to show him the real her... And in the process, began to see the real him. ItaSaku. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I |** One

**.**

* * *

It was a sweltering day. Being on a train where your palms got clammy from the humidity did not help the case of the flooding heat-wave.

About a half an hour earlier, the air conditioning on that very train had grinded to a slow, sickening halt. It screeched before letting out languid, dying breaths, until, finally, it ceased to generate its cool air to the passengers.

It had been their death sentence on that sultry evening, many of the passengers grimaced when the heat began to slide over their bodies.

She had just sat there; glowering out the window, sending glares to anyone that dared to question her pink hair with their eyes.

But as she warded off another of the passenger's curious gazes (a lot of the non-regulars liked to stare), someone caught her eye.  
She knew his face from somewhere.

He had a defined chin and sharp nose - not exactly angular and enough not to look like a comic book hero, but enough not to look feminine. His lips were pursed together in what looked like deep thought or frustration – she couldn't quite tell. His hair fell in beautiful locks around his face to create two side bangs; the rest of its length fell limply over his left shoulder, held together by a piercing red hair tie. His beautiful mane was a defined black – almost bordering on grey, had it not been for the healthy shine to it.

His prolonged tear ducts would have looked wrong on anyone else's face, making them look old. But it fitted him well, giving him an air of sophistication and brilliance at how well pieced together his face was. She looked over and couldn't spot a single blemish on his pale skin.  
Then there were his eyes; she had only caught a glimpse of him looking out the window before he had closed them; adding to the look of deep contemplation on his face.

They were a beautiful shade of onyx black. They might have looked dull, had he not had an angelic face to fit them into. They were sparkling, twinkling, glistening. She found herself lost in that one image that remained in her mind, of his eyes; deep pools of sable that seemed to be a never-ending stairway, pooling into depths and depths that she had never seen in anyone's eyes before.

She would have loved to have gotten the chance to paint him. He already looked like a sculpture of some sort – sculptures were made without blemishes; made to look godly. She had never seen such a person with perfection in their face like a painted canvas such as his.

She had been so busy getting absorbed in the architecture that was his face that she didn't notice when he opened his eyes and his lips softened into a straight line - removing all looks of expression to reveal a stoic demeanour – that she had been caught gawking. She had only realised until she looked up to his eyes once again.

Hastily, she looked away and with embarrassment portrayed on her features, she angled herself to look out of the window once again. She felt his eyes bore into the back of her head. He was assessing the person that had been openly staring; she knew it.

She decided to be daring and took a swift look around. His eyes were on her as she blushed and got flustered by the eye contact that had been made and the smirk that had made itself resident on his face.

It tugged at the edges of her lips to see such a heavenly facial expression and so she shot him a smile right back. The almost intimate contact was broken as she looked around the train. There were three people on the carriage, bar the mysterious, handsome stranger and herself. Stranger wasn't the right word. She _knew _this man's face from somewhere. Probably from her dreams.

It was always this quiet by the time she got to her stop. The people on the train at this point were regulars. They were always on the train at this time. She had never once spotted this man so far into the train journey; or in fact, ever on the train. No one lived in this empty little neighbourhood, so the train was always dead. But she liked it that way, calm and peaceful. She hated travelling into the city, being wary of the compact trains, and not to mention – train perverts. How she hated them, but how she hated making a scene.

She looked around and spotted the little Obaachan that owned the tea shop a few streets away from where she lived; the official looking man, who never looked official as he always fell asleep on his journey home, and finally the woman who worked in a restaurant. Sakura knew this because she could always smell some form of gorgeous food's scent radiating off of her. She looked back at him - his eyes were still on her.

He was definitely attractive; yes, she had decided. But she knew better than to fall for a man's looks. He probably had women kissing the earth beneath his feet. And he was probably one of those men who liked women who would be willing to have some form of intercourse, get bored and move on.

_In fact_, he was probably this far into the journey because he thought he could pull tonight. But no – she was no whore. She decided this and promptly looked away, throwing him a glare that she had been using to ward off people the whole night as he gazed, confused, back at her.

It was closing in on her stop when she stood up. As she did so, he did also. She sent him a scowl and he replied with a confused stare. They left the train together as she threw her book bag over her shoulder.

She skilfully dodged past people and climbed up the stairs of the train station. It was late; she could tell by the stuffy night air. She was sure it was at least 8 o'clock. As she whipped out her cell phone – now on a main road, leading to the many intricate and remote roads she took to get home – it confirmed her suspicions. The digital clock read "_8.03"_.

She had reached one of the first remote streets when she heard two sets of footsteps, including her own, and listened intently until she heard the graceful pitter-patter of feet behind her. After seeing a tall shadow with a tail of flowing hair she decided to stop and promptly turned on her heel.

She met the beautiful man's face with a scowl. An awkward silence elapsed before he spoke out after a few moments of dense atmosphere.

"Yes?" He asked. His voice slid over her in pleasuring waves of smoothness. The monotone ring to his rich undertone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end in a way she had yet to experience. She faltered a little after listening to that one syllable word that he uttered. The wind blew and tasselled her short hair; she tucked a piece behind her ear, expecting to be knocked out with a whiff of his cologne. Instead, she was met by a fresh green tea smell. It was pleasurable and he smelt _clean_, if there was any word for his minty scent.

"Are you _following _me?" She said, putting a little emphasis on the word "follow". She caught, for a second, a look of surprise on the man's face, before he let out a little chuckle. The tone of his chuckle was something she could not comprehend.

It was either a friendly chuckle, where he would say something like, "You dropped your handkerchief," and she would gracefully accept, having felt bad after at his accusation. He would have written his number on it and she would find him. They would meet up and fall in love.

_Or, _it might have been a chuckle at her realisation, where he would say something like, "You got me," before he would push her to the ground and have his way with her there and then.

"I live around here." He said simply. Fortunately – or unfortunately – none of her deluded thoughts becoming a reality as he swung his keys coolly around his finger.

The jingling noise-makers had seemingly appeared from thin air. She took a look at his keys, noticing that, in the dim light, he had a set of purple keys, meaning that he lived in the same apartment complex as her. She continued studying the keys as they fell limply around his finger when he stopping spinning them. From the numbers etched into the purple plastic attached to the keys, he seemingly also lived one door down.

She could only guess he lived on the other side of the elevator, at the odd number on his keys. She _had_ known his face from somewhere! She had spotted him in the lift before, she was sure of it. But there was something else; another way she knew his face that was almost as plain as day that she couldn't seem to land her finger on.

"You live next door to me." She replied, not apologising for her former statement. She fished around in her pocket until she produced her keys, holding them out in her palm, almost as if for inspection. He took a quick glance at them before sufficing with a short reply.

"It appears I do." He stated flatly. There was another moment of awkward silence that lapsed over the two before she turned again and began walking. He took a look at her bag, noticing something familiar, and so he saw for a second that her badge did in fact hold a notable crest on it. As he caught up to her, he decided he should bring it up.

"Forgive me. I meant nothing by my accusation," she said, stopping to bow her head in shame before continuing to walk, not allowing him to first bring up the badge.

"I take no offence in it." He replied. He noted the formed smile clasping to her features like it didn't belong there. She was simply being apologetic. He saw for a second and felt like she was a familiar face. Her lips were coated in a red lipstick. It would have looked common on any other girl, almost hooker-like, but she had no other cosmetic he could spot on her face, which almost gave her a sense of Monroe grace. "You... Study at the University of Kyoto?" He questioned.

"I do. How do you know?" She turned her head and gave him a questioning glance.

"I saw the badge on your bag. I'd take it off if I were you. Unless you want perverts showing up at your door." She snorted at his statement, giving him a look that said, 'I can take care of myself'. "What year are you in?" He questioned.

"Were you not just talking about perverts at my door?" She joked, giving him a wide grin, he didn't seem amused at first and let out a mono-syllable, until he realised it was a joke and smiled. "First year." She replied.

"Then perhaps you would know my otouto?" She sent him a questioning glance before he continued. _"Uchiha Sasuke?"_

She seemed to falter for a second.

At this moment she realised several important things.

This angelic man she had been having polite banter with was an upperclassman. And not just any upperclassman. This was _Uchiha_ _Itachi ._ The God of all Gods. Any die hard Sasuke fan-girl would wave to Sasuke at the sight of this magnificent man. It had hit her in the face like a tonne of bricks. She was an idiot! But it had been so long since Naruto, Sasuke and she had all went to Sasuke's house together. And she remotely ever saw Itachi. He was always locked up in his room.

Secondly, yes, she did know Sasuke. In fact, they had known each other since attending Kindergarten together. Also, her Aunt and Mikoto-san were the best of friends.

"Yes. Sasuke and I have been friends since Kindergarten..." She hoped that Sasuke had not told his older brother about her stupid love confession and them dating all those years ago.

"Well, you are definitely not Naruto-kun." He replied, surveying her. She gave him a nervous smile. If he had known about everything and guessed her name correctly, she had just lost all her social credibility. Yes, it mattered to her at this age. He seemed to slightly squint at her before the twinkle she had noticed in his eyes disappeared. "Haruno-san." He stated this more than asking her if that was indeed her name.

"Yes," she nodded politely before continuing (not feeling polite on the inside, but feeling more like '_oh_ shit'), "I barely even recognise you, Uchiha-sama." She replied, and he definitely thought the same. She had grown up a lot since he had last seen her. She looked more _womanly_ now. A more voluptuous figure and a less childish looking hair cut, he noted. It fitted her. He knew he recognised the sheen of her pink hair before. However, he only realised it was his otouto's friend, Haruno Sakura, when he saw. He decided to stop seeing, however, when he felt the niggling sensation of a migraine coming along.

"Same unto you." He replied. They were reaching the apartment complex as it dawned on her she had not eaten in eight hours. She touched her stomach and cringed. She remembered there was some mouth watering Dango Mitarashi in her fridge. He held the door open for her as she nodded politely before stepping in. He was definitely far more well mannered than Sasuke had ever been. In fact, Sakura remembered a month where she and Naruto both counted how many doors they had to open, and how many Sasuke had to open. Sasuke hadn't opened a door _once_ in the whole month, always having people willing to open it for him.

They tumbled into the small elevator, making polite banter before stepping out.

"Have you eaten?" Sakura asked, turning to Itachi as he thought about his options. He could be un-gentleman-like, and take Sakura's food, or he could go home and make a bowl of unappealing instant noodles.

"No, I haven't." He replied, deciding to give into his whims. She smiled as she unlocked her door, muttering for him to wait in her hallway, as she removed her shoes at her genkan.

She returned several minutes later with a plate of Dango Mitarashi. Not his favourite type, but he enjoyed Dango, none the less.

"You can eat with me or in your apartment. I don't mind fetching another plate for your girlfriend. It's only me and there is a lot, a lot of Dango here." She smiled. He enjoyed being in these types of women's company. Women that were being genuinely nice, and not just doing things to try and get into bed with him. She even thought he had a girlfriend and was willing to get some for her. It pleased him.

"I would prefer to eat with company; there is no one waiting for me." He spoke softly. She decided she liked the way he wasn't outright. As he could have said, "I'd like to eat with you. And I don't have a girlfriend", but he had decided to speak in a code almost. She enjoyed deciphering the mystery that was Uchiha Itachi.

"Sorry, I just assumed..." She trailed off. "Well close the door." She snorted, walking down the hall and into a large kitchen-dining-living room thing whilst he removed his shoes at the genkan.

He saw again, deciding to look for a while and familiarise himself with the set up – he didn't want to bump into anything – so he burned the image into his mind before he stopped seeing again, not wanting to actually receive the consequences.

One of the walls was marred with paint splatters. He had assumed that she had maybe stained the white wall once or twice with paint and then decided it was time for a room make-over. The others were just plain white, in fact, slightly off white, a nice creamy colour. The kitchen area was large with an island in the middle. To the right of the island was a little table with four chairs on the wooden area until the carpet meshed into it and there came a sofa, coffee table and a dusty looking T.V. pressed against the wall with the paint splatters. To the left and right of the television set were two large book cases packed up with books. There were so many books there that he wondered how she even got them out – they were that tightly packed together. After all the furniture had passed, there was the big window, acting as the fourth wall, looking out over the city. There was a door lying creaked open to the right of the right bookcase, and another room, on the opposite wall from the window and then a final room, situated beside what he assumed was the bathroom.

But what had made the room was indefinitely the Grand Piano that was filling the empty space between all of the articles of furniture and the window.

She motioned for him to sit and she set the plate of Dango she had been holding, and another from her fridge, onto the table. She began to brew some tea and she looked around with an almost scowl on her face.

"I know you were brought up proper and all that, but I won't deem it socially unacceptable if you eat before I take my seat." She mocked, returning to the tea and pouring two cups. She decided on green tea, having earlier smelt the scent from the man. She brought the two steaming cups of liquid to the table and after placing them on coasters, she called out a polite, "Itadakimasu", before tearing into a stick of previously prepared Dango.

He took a bite into the Dango and a sense of pleasure washed over his taste buds. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten Dango that tasted his good. His mother had always made his favourite, but no matter how good anyone's culinary skills were, he couldn't find one quite as well made as a little tea shop he liked to visit; Sakura's Dango matched up to par with it, indefinitely.

"Did you make this?" He said after swallowing his first bite.

"I did. Why, is it bad?" She said with an apologetic look adorning her features.

"Quite the opposite." He uttered. It was true, he did find it hard to compliment people, but this Dango was magnificent. He had pressed some thought while swallowing the second mound of Mochiko covered in the wonderful Mitarashi sauce. "You're quick to invite people in." He muttered.

"Are you saying that I shouldn't?" She quirked a pink eyebrow at him.

"Did we not already point out the badge problem earlier?" He asked, a playful tone finding its way to his vocal chords.

"Correction, _you _pointed it out."

"Besides, it's not like you're a stranger. You're Sasuke's older brother. Thus, we are already acquaintances." He smirked at her statement before realising that she probably no longer liked his little brother, as she had dropped her obligatory "Kun" at the end of his name.

"You're quite the logical thinker." His smirk grew wider. "Why were you out so late anyway?" He questioned, changing the subject.

"I'll have to copy both of your statements and throw them your way." She sent him a daring smirk as he dropped his from his face to form his usual, stoic expression.

"Can a twenty-four year old not have a social life?" A quick witted reply.

"Can a twenty year old?" He smiled at her statement; it looked like a smile of realisation, but nonetheless, looked beautiful on his face.

"Haruno-san." He called, drawing her attention from the munching on the stick and back to his face. "I know you were not out on behalf of social business. Naruto-kun moaned to his friends as he passed me by about you having to miss out on the social gathering due to work." Her eyes widened considerably at his statement. She could dare say he knew the majority of everything. "So, what do you work as?" He asked, his expression blank. She faltered as she fluttered her eyes at the stinging sensation that came from not blinking and her dazed expression.

"I barely talk to Naruto anymore... but I uhh-" She began, before stopping mid-sentence and blurting out what she really wanted to say. "I hate my job. It's setting the wrong example to people. Dictating how they should look and what way they should act... The media is corrupt." Fury laced her words. To hide her embarrassment at her sudden outburst, she rammed a stick of Dango in her mouth and began to furiously chew.

From this statement, he could only guess she was some kind of model. In a split second, he took in her clothing choice, and her appearance and presentation assisted in backing up her speech.

She wore a pair of old, beat up Sneakers, the tops were obscured by a pair of skin tight black jeans. Her top half was no less plain, with a blue V-neck and cream coloured woollen cardigan thrown over her form. Then there was her hair. The pink strands just screamed non-conformist, as if she didn't _want_ to be like anyone else.

The usual cosmetic products you'd find piled on top of a young woman's face weren't there. She had a natural light pink blush adorned on her face. The only thing she wore was red lipstick – and some other light coverage, probably – which brought out her beautifully plump lips.

"You're a model then, I assume?" He said this as more of a statement.

"A lip model, mostly. I bet they get some other girl with a nice nose and another with nice eyes and Frankenstein us in Photoshop." She snorted, knocking her now lukewarm tea back in a gulp. It explained why she wore cosmetics on her lips, while the rest was pretty free of products. "That reminds me; let me go wash this crap off of my face." She pushed her chair out, about to stand before he spoke out.

"You should keep it on. It looks nice." He said. She faltered as she fell almost limply into her chair. His half compliment had put a smile on her face and in her mind. She had to admit, she did look nice with it on. But she didn't like the thought of people thinking she was your average make-up caked girl. "Why do you not quit if you hate it?" He asked.

"How do you think I pay for this place?" She smiled, now brimming with a confident air.

"Good point." He stated.

"You're lucky. Your dad practically _owns _the police force and _the _most successful healthcare in all of Japan, if not the world." She muttered.

"Actually, I have a job to pay for my apartment." He reprimanded her without intent, sticking the last stick of Dango on his plate into his mouth. At this, red painted on top of her already natural pink hue.

"Ah, gomen. I didn't mean to be... uhh- prejudiced..." She muttered before biting her bottom lip with nervous glee.

"I didn't take it with that intent." He smiled, making her heart flutter. She would never outwardly admit it, but he was extremely good looking.

"Would you like some more Dango?" She asked, gesturing to the four sticks left on the plate she had been eating off. He moved his now empty plate over to her and she placed three sticks of Dango onto it. He glanced down at it before giving her a whole hearted smile and picking up the third stick before placing it back onto her plate, making it even, two each. She gave him a cheeky grin before biting into the extra stick.

"So what do _you_ work as?" She asked, still chewing on the stick of Dango, her mouth full. It should have looked like bad table manners that she would speak with food in her mouth, but it looked almost cute. He got the impression she was one of those hardcore females that got pissy if you called them "cute".

"I work in a restaurant." He replied, looking down at her Dango and almost grimacing over the fact that he would probably never get it as good as this.

She had a feeling that it was some prestigious Restaurant with quite a name for itself. She decided not to press the matter and instead catch him going out to work in his uniform and check out the crest of an expensive restaurant that would be emblazoned onto it.

She knew for a fact that if anyone came to a job interview and mentioned their name was Uchiha, they would have been given the position without hesitation. Let alone mention that your name was _Uchiha __Itachi. _Son of the owner of the most powerful companies in all of Japan.

Being the sole successor of a long line of Uchihas that had founded the Police Force in early Edo Japan, his father had to have been the most powerful man in the country. And it's not like his father's links to the Yakuza weren't infamous or unknown. She wouldn't be surprised if he was the Oyabun's boss. But no one dared speak of it.

Unless they desired an early death.

"I'm guessing you're studying Psychology?" She questioned, moving from the awkward air of speaking about their jobs. He chuckled at her outward-ness.

"_Yes,_ though I'm majoring in Literature. Why, am I too logical?" He asked playfully, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"No. I prefer men to be brainy. Brawny is too cliché. And unattractive. Although I cannot say that my friends would say the same." She began confidently, but then began to start pausing and muttering. She mentally slapped herself for her silly muttering and awkward half-compliments. She took in his presentation, noting that he had a short sleeved dress shirt on, the first couple of buttons undone, making it look politely casual. It looked a lot a plain old one, if it weren't for what she could have mistaken to be the Uchiha crest on the right corner of the front.

But that wasn't what caught her eye. Nor was it the dark dress trousers he decided to wear.

No, it was the fact that his shirt did not show off brawn. It didn't show off what most of the men in her collage did; the unattractive mountains that they all flashed. No, in fact, he wasn't tanked like that. His arms were defined as if he partook in some form of Martial Art. His shoulders were not bulky, but were lean.

He also chose attire very similar to hers. Just because he was attractive, he did not go flashing it around and his choice of clothing was very plain, like her own.

"I agree. I've seen too much of that. I also like when women decide not to whore around. As well as men." He sighed, closing his eyes. She couldn't help but giggle at his honesty (and the fact that the last part of his sentence could be interpreted as him telling her he was gay, but she didn't comment). He opened an eye to look at her smiling expression and he too smiled. He could tell she was smiling from the red of her lips taking a new stance, and so he decided to see again. He looked at her before darting his eyes to her bookshelves. He wanted to know what kind of genres she read – if any non-fiction – before he stopped seeing again. "And I am assuming you are studying some form of Medicine?"

"How do you know?" She asked, looking slightly exasperated. She hadn't said anything that would indicate that she was indeed studying Medicine. He pointed to the right hand corner of the bookshelf furthest away from him. He must have been some sort of extra terrestrial, or just an amazingly observant person, for that was the only medical book on her shelves of Fiction.

"Amazing... How did you spot that?!" She asked, flicking her head around from where she had been starring in amazement at the corner of the book that she could see, but not make out the words; she was closer to it.

"I just... looked." He told her. She could have sworn that he lost his composure for a second as he forced the stuttering intent back down his throat.

"You're not like your brother, you know." She spoke softly, looking down at her nails glistening in the light. He looked up from where he himself had been staring at the book he had spotted in the midst of all the other fiction books.

"I never implied that I was like my otouto." He sighed.

"You... he just looks so much like you." She replied, looking up from her nails. She was almost embarrassed to be talking about Sasuke. Not because she liked him, but because Itachi only used to know her obsessive, immature, fan-girl self that was no longer there.

"I have been told that on numerous occasions. I don't particularly see much resemblance. All Uchihas, I suppose, look alike." She nodded at his statement. She remembered attending Sasuke's birthdays, of which a lot of other Uchiha attended. It was a sea of onyx eyes and raven black hair. They were all generally attractive. It was also, on one of his birthdays, the day she had her first conversation with the man that sat before her now (she recalled him being thought provoking and not saying anything without thinking deeply about it first). She snickered under her breath at how jealous Ino had been at Sakura's invite.

"Sasuke's arrogant." She spoke quickly. His small chuckle made her realise she had said is out loud. She cupped her hand over her mouth at her rude attitude. "I'm so sorry! It slipped out..." She blurted, running the hand that had been cupping her mouth down the side of her face until it landed on the table top.

"I know." His words shocked her. But she supposed that this man had lived with him, he would know him better than anyone. Sasuke had always been like that; arrogant and so full of himself. So sure that everyone would bend to his will.

There was a thin line between cocky and confident. He was nowhere on this scale. He had passed it decades ago. He was the top line that was called "douche", reserved just for him and all the other tormentors of her life. And he smiled his little smirk even standing there.

Granted, she might have once fuelled his high and mighty attitude, but she had wised up to herself. However he still has his little fan-girls that liked to keep that stick wedged nice and tightly between his buttocks.

"And I also know that he has a stick up his rear end." He said, sipping on his tea that must have been ice cold by this point. He had stolen the words that she had been thinking about like he had read it from a book. And although he had a serious tone and expression, she couldn't help but laugh out at his choice of words for his presentation. You couldn't match one with the other.

He had definitely liked the sound of her laughter. It was not too giggly, or donkey-like. In fact, it didn't sound like the normal, cliché female's laugh. It was music to his ears as it brushed against his skin, sliding over him in irregular waves of emotion. She wiped her eyes as she held her stomach at the laughing fit that was progressing to an end. He knew that he was grinning at that current moment, not that he had provoked it, but it was his own natural reflex to hearing something so musical.

It had reminded him of what he had imagined when he walked in and spotted the Grand Piano lying dormant gazing out of the window. He had always loved to hear the sound of Piano, and would certainly have loved her to play for him.

"Do you play?" He asked, staring at the Grand Piano.

"No. I don't." She sighed, not bothering to look at the Piano. With the hasty reply something had told him that she was lying, but he decided to press the issue of her musical capability no further. Something had damaged her confidence at playing; he knew that as a psychology student. But he did not wish to bring the matter to hand as he didn't really want to deal with a crying female. But something told him she was the type to get angry, not emotional.

She glanced up at the clock in her living area and it read "9:52", they had been sitting talking for over an hour. She then glanced down to their empty plates and tea cups.

"Not meaning to kick you out, but I need to take a shower and stuff..." She said awkwardly, scratching the back of her head with an even more awkward lop-sided, sheepish grin plastered onto her face. As she said this, he looked up at the clock, faint black blurs for hands.

"Not at all. I hadn't come to realise the time. Shall I let myself out?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stood and picked up his cup and plate, ready to leave them in the kitchen area.

"If you want. And let me deal with these." She smiled, pushing the items in his hands down onto the table with his hands still wrapped around the two pieces of equipment.

"Thank you for the Dango. It was excellent. Goodnight, Haruno-san." He said, letting go of the things she would "deal" with. Her earlier perceptions of him being a man-whore were shattered.

He liked this woman. So, once again, before he left, he decided to see again. She was smiling. (He stopped seeing and he knew he would regret seeing that many times in such a short space of time later. He could already feel the burning in his temples.) She didn't coat her face in every cosmetic that he couldn't name, and she was naturally very pretty. She didn't wear a skirt that she hitched up to make a belt with. It looked as if she preferred comfort to looking good. She understood the fact that trying to aim for looking like a media representation of a woman was unachievable.

Yes, he liked this woman indeed.

He walked down the hall and opened the door when her heard her meek reply.

"Goodnight."

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the other franchises, etc. mentioned.**

**A/N::** "Seeing". This is not random. Foreshadowing, my darlings, foreshadowing. I doubt you'll get an explanation out of me too soon. This aspect kinda makes it a bit more canon-ish. Just thought I'd let you know about this in case you're sitting there like "Huh?".

Please note: there is a four year difference between Itachi and Sakura, unlike the six there is in canon. Using a bit of poetic license here. ALSO, I'm really not entirely sure about all the technicalities of University, so don't hate my for my poetic license-ing.

Please give a huge thanks to my beta-reader, XxDreaming of RealityxX, who is an absolutely awesome person.

Reviews keep me writing :)

**—xl3utterflyx**


	2. Chapter 2

**II |** Two

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* * *

The light streaming through her unclosed second layer of curtain revealed the high amount of dust in the air. She definitely needed to clean again.

She groggily opened her eyes, the contact of the harsh beams breaking through her eyelids beforehand.

Then she glanced at the alarm clock positioned on her bedside table. The apartments in this complex were nowhere near small, even though the rent was an adequate price. Her double bed was positioned against the farthest wall away from the door. Any other person would have placed it in the middle of the spacious room, but she preferred to feel the cold sensation of the wall against her skin on warm nights. There was a little bedside table where her alarm clock was perched, and finally, on the empty wall, there was a built-in wardrobe, which contained all her clothes.

As she read the alarm clock – seeing it read "6:53" – she grunted. She, just as much as anyone, hated waking up minutes before their alarm went off in a signal for wake up. She didn't mind waking up early - however she did like a lie in every once in a while.

Her hand travelled to her face, rubbing the remains of sleep from her emerald orbs. She lay there in peaceful silence for at least five whole minutes before making any movement to get up. Pulling back the cover on her bed and swinging her legs around, she heard several cracks sound from her stiff body. She stood up and turned, fixing her bed sheets over her bed. Her bed was no exception to her house: immaculate – except for the dust fluttering around. Everything was put into place and everything had a certain mathematical settlement about it.

Soft feet padded against the carpet as she opened her door. The sound of her feet changed as she hit the wooden floor, a tricolour of wood, carpet, and wood, of the biggest room of her house.

Night clothes were shed and strewn all across the floor as her womanly physique moved to get into the shower. She turned the tap, twisting her hand around twice until the water that came splashing out was piping hot to the touch. Her figure was placed under the gushing water as she looked up and sighed at the stream flowing onto her natural figure. The water stung her eyes as it hit them; she flinched before angling her head downwards, letting it instead coat her hair.

She took the bottle of body wash and squeezed it onto the washing sponge as she began to scrub at herself. Her skin began to become raw and red from ridding the impurities from her body. She let the water wash over her once again as she reached for the battle of shampoo and repeated the same procedure on her hair. It looked like a foaming lathered monster as she began to rinse her locks of the suds produced.

She took a final breath of bliss before shutting the water off all together and stepping out, wrapping a towel around her figure and rushing into her room, all the while trying not to drip onto the floors. After rubbing herself down, she shed the towel onto the floor and kicked it into the corner where several towels that needed to be washed now lay.

She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out random articles of clothing, still stark naked. She was thankful as she nearly broke her neck checking if her curtains where closed.

She threw on her underwear, before putting on her clothes with as much care as she had for the last layer of fabric that went over her. She grabbed her corner towel and dried her hair with it as much as she could before putting it up into a ponytail. The pieces of her hair framing her face fell out of the hair tie that held her pink locks together. She took her watch from her bedside table and clipped it to her wrist. She liked to know the time.

She sighed heavily before walking out into the kitchen area, poking around until she found some previously prepared rice, and she proceeded to grab a pair of chopsticks as the door vibrated with the knocking coming from the other side. She closed the drawer before walking down the short corridor to the door, chopsticks still in hand.

Who would ever call at this time? In fact, who would ever call?

She opened her door and found Itachi standing there in quite an immaculate looking outfit. He had what would have looked like a normal suit, only the top few buttons were left open, revealing the nothingness beneath. He had a pair of sunglasses resting on his face, the blacked out eye pieces showing her own reflection. She stood there, looking almost a bit confused until he brought his hand that was resting dormant at his side to her face. Hanging limply around his fingertips was a pair of metallic keys and a piece of leather dangled from the back of them that announced he drove a Jaguar.

"I thought you'd like a lift." He stated as she motioned with her head for him to come in. He removed his shoes at the genkan and she led him down the hallway and told him to sit. She guessed his car had been getting fixed otherwise she doubted he would have been getting the train.

She had seen him in the corridors at Uni whilst they were with their respective friends, and had made small talk with him about how his car was broken and other irrelevant chit-chat all week, but it mildly surprised her to see him here. He must've gotten his car back.

She noted that it almost been a full week since he had last been into her house. She could see him remembering the set-up of her house after those days as his eyes darted about, taking it all in again. As he glanced out the window, he found the seat he had sat in last time without looking down at all. She wouldn't even have known the table was there if she had been gazing where he was. Had he counted the steps?

"I was just about to have some breakfast. Would you like some?" She showed him the simple rice she was serving. He sat contemplating for a few moments and pushed his glasses back to rest on the front of his head.

"I'll serve you some out to save the awkward stage of saying yes." She smiled at him before turning around again to prepare the rice onto two separate plates. She placed two bowls of rice down onto the table before turning again to bring two pairs of chopsticks and repeating her actions of setting them on the table.

He picked up the chopsticks after she began eating and placed the rice into his mouth. She looked at his surprised expression with sorry realisation etched on her face and swallowed.

"I'm sorry; I can warm it up if you want..." She told him as she made a move to get up. He moved his hand up and down three times signalling her to seat while he finished his mouthful.

"No. It's fine. I'm surprised to find that anyone likes their rice cold apart from me." She smiled at his statement.

"That's the best way." She told him, grinning. "So don't you usually eat breakfast?" She asked, filling in the silence with idle conversation.

"I do. I usually stop and get a take out from the café beside the University." He said as she looked into his bowl. The steamed rice was dwindling down much like her bowl and she could only think that he would get another two mouthfuls out of it.

"The one that has the sign that's fallen off?" She asked offhandedly as she emptied the rest of the bowl's contents into her mouth.

"Yes. It's usually busy in the mornings." He replied, following suit as he finished his condiment.

"I see." She smiled while glancing at his empty bowl. "Are you done?" She questioned, knowing the answer was going to be that of the affirmative.

"Yes, it was nice. You're an excellent cook." He handed her the bowl as she stood and placed both of their bowls into the sink, along with their chopsticks. In turn, she flushed at his compliment.

"I'm not very good."

"Yes, yes..." He dismissed her, before glancing to her sink and stating, "Your dishes seem to be building up."

"Haha, you noticed? Hold on, let me go and find a jacket." She walked across the space, and slid into her bedroom while she rummaged about for a jacket. She found one after a few moments of hunting, and slipped it on.

"I'll probably clean them when I get home," she told him as she walked out of her bedroom, glancing up at the clock, "No time now." She smiled sheepishly. He stood up and made a move to walk.

Before they began to walk, she spoke up, "Are you sure you don't mind? Giving me a lift, I mean..." She stood, rooted to the spot and averted her eyes. Did she feel bad about accepting his offer? He thought so. It was refreshing. Meeting someone who didn't just reap everything and not even say a simple 'thank you'. It was a break, if you will, from all those egotistical, please-only-myself dirt bags that he was so accustomed to being around. They would ask him to lend his goddamn car, whereas she was hesitating taking up _his _offer of a simple lift to their mutual destination.

Also, he couldn't help but note, it was slightly cute. She looked flustered, as if she didn't want to be a burden as she looked everywhere but his face.

"Haruno-san, you will be sitting on a seat while I manoeuvre a vehicle in a path that I'm already travelling. Why would I mind?" He asked, his voice level.

She couldn't quite tell if he was joking or just being a serious Uchiha. His face was serious, but when her lips tugged at his extreme generalisation of the situation, he half smirked. He turned to walk to her front door, her following.

"And I could use the company." He told her as he attempted to slip on his shoes. His toes slightly missed so he decided to see for a second, save himself from the embarrassment. She smiled at his statement, however, either ignoring or not noticing him missing his shoe. It was as if he was telling her he enjoyed her company. Or maybe that's what she wanted him to say. Who was she kidding? The man barely knew her. Why would he go around telling her things like that? She pushed the thoughts from her mind, but couldn't remove the tiny smile from her face.

She also slipped her shoes on as he waited for her, grabbing her bag from where she'd lazily left it in her genkan and taking her keys from her hook to nestle them nicely into her pocket.

When she had successfully adjusted the straps and bag onto her back, he opened the door for her and gestured for her to walk out. _Ever the gentleman,_she mused silently to herself. He followed her out and waited while she locked the door.

They walked the small distance to the elevator and she pushed the button. As they waited, the click of a door opening, slightly down the hall, could be heard.

"Sakura-chan!" Someone called out in an old, frail voice. Her head turned towards the source of the noise before his. He saw for a second. He found a small, old lady, with slits for eyes hidden under thick, yellowing glasses, wearing a worn looking matte coloured kimono. She was waving a rounded rice cooling fan, red patterns of bamboo and leaves standing out against yellow, using it to try and get Sakura's attention.

"Obaasan?" Sakura questioned, as if asking what the old lady was calling her for. But Itachi noted that her voice lacked a questioning aspect, meaning that Sakura already had a fair idea of what the old lady wanted.

"Sakura-chan, could you feed Oki-chan for me when you get back?! I'll be out late! Key's where is always it!" Itachi also noted that this old lady probably had a hearing aid – that was also probably broken. He found her and her friendliness with Sakura amusing.

"Of course I'll feed him for you. Hot date tonight, obaasan?" The old woman smiled, exposing a row of non-existent teeth; pure pink gum.

"I could say the same to you, Sakura-chan!" The old woman pulled her glasses to her forehead and squinted in Itachi's general direction. "You seem to have gotten yourself quite the catch!" She directed her next line to Itachi, "You treat her good, young man!" She waggled her finger at him before waving to Sakura and closing her front door. Itachi found his lips being tugged upwards.

The elevator dinged, indicating it had finally arrived at their floor. He allowed Sakura to get in first, and after he himself squeezed in after her, noting the pink blur that now adorned her features in his eyes.

He expected her to drop the subject, not even comment, but she did, albeit awkwardly. "I, uhh- Obaasan doesn't know what she's saying. Sometimes it's best not to argue back with the elderly."

The elevator was stuffy at this time in the morning, when no one thought to turn on the air conditioning. He noted their close proximity, and it seemed she hadn't noticed – she would probably be blushing if she had, he calculated. She seemed a little awkward.

She wasn't awkward almost a week ago, when they had been teasing, confessing and dango-eating together. But he could only assume she felt awkward because he was doing her the favour, whereas before, she was doing him the favour. Before she was in control, but now she felt as if she was in his pocket. That's what he guessed, anyway.

He let her out first, once again, from the small elevator. However she waited for him, as she had no idea what direction to go in to get to his car and no idea where he had parked it.

They walked in a comfortable silence, and strangely enough, she did not find herself desperately trying to keep up with his long strides. He had slowed down for her, walking at her pace, she noticed. Maybe he was doing it purposely, maybe he wasn't, but she appreciated it nonetheless. He looked like he was concentrating, calculating something about the shorter strides, however. How many steps it would take to get to his car with the newfound shorter steps...? No...she was being ridiculous.

She wasn't a tall woman, neither was she a small woman, but he was _tall _compared to her. She stood at a mere 5'4", having not grown much. He, however, was at least 5'10", towering a whole head above her. She didn't really mind her height, it's not like it was a disadvantage, but sometimes she did wish she were taller. Sometimes it made her feel small, not just physically. When someone was taller, it felt as if they were better somehow. Towering above her; looking down on her. She didn't want to look down onto anyone; she simply wished to meet their gaze head on.

How she wished she had done that earlier in life. She thought back on her younger, Sasuke-fawning years. She smiled bitterly while glancing to the man on her right. Before a few days ago, if anyone had asked this man what he knew about Sakura Haruno, he probably would've spilled out a resounding '_pathetic'_ or a '_can't stand on her own two feet_'. And she was sure a lot of other people still held that opinion of her. In fact, she wasn't even sure if that would still be his answer. She hoped not.

She wanted to prove to people – him – that she wasn't some stupid fan girl anymore. Crying and crying and calling after Sasuke. Be there to meet his every whim. She remembered _loving _him. Now all she felt was dullness. Even sometimes a dull ache – not at the fact that she had been rejected, but at the fact that she had wasted so much of her life chasing after him. And for what? To give people like Itachi a bad opinion of her.

Sasuke didn't care about anyone but himself. He might have, at one point. She wanted to laugh at herself. Finding his assholishness attractive. Why did she at one point find brooding, egotistical assholes to be nice characteristics? She wanted to punch him. In the face. Square in the eye, give him a nice, big shiner. Everyone would ask him how he got it, and he would tell everyone it was a fight; '_You should've seen the other guy',_ he would say, as if it were nothing. But she would know. And she would give him a knowing smirk every time he would say it. He'd advert his eyes. And she would be _so _satisfied.

And the things she wanted to say to this man. Oh my. _Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?_

But what she wanted the most was to go back in time and punch her twelve year old self in the face. _He doesn't love you! Why can't you see that?!_

And now, she'd have to live with that. The reputation of the stupid fan girl she wasn't. She just hoped that Itachi didn't think she was like that. She hoped he could see past her old self, see the new, improved Sakura.

Why?

Why did she want to make sure that he knew her for her? Why did he, in the past week they'd properly known each other, concern her so much? She couldn't say. She didn't know. But, _it felt right._ It felt right to be concerned about his opinion of her, whereas she didn't care about anyone else's.

They approached his car and she couldn't help but staring at it. It was...

Wow.

Like something you'd see famous people and celebrities drive.

She always pictured people with these types of cars to lead her up to them and make her stand and watch while they stroked the bonnet and told her the car's name. But he did nothing apart from casually unlock the slick, black conveyance and open her door for her, slightly fumbling for the handle. She thought nothing of it.

She smiled in thanks while she stepping in, removing her bag as she did so. He closed the door for her and she sighed as she sunk into the cosy leather seat.

She looked at the interior and gazed on wistfully. Black leather seats and beautiful. This was a _beautiful _car. And yes, she was slightly jealous.

She wondered if his father bought this for him or he had bought it for himself. She recalled the unintended reprimand she had gotten when she brought up the subject of his father's fortune. She understood entirely. He didn't want to be his father, he wanted to be Itachi. He didn't want his father to be the first thing you thought of when you heard his name. His was his own person, not someone living in the shadow of his father's infamy.

Just the same as her not wanting the name 'Sasuke' to come to mind when you thought of 'Sakura', or the synonym of her 12 year old self's name, 'idiot'.

Itachi stepped into the car from the driver's side and put the keys into the ignition. She held her bag firmly on her lap as she buckled herself in almost in unison with Itachi.

"You have a _very _nice car. I'm jealous." She told him playfully. "You just saved me from getting onto a hot, stuffy, crowded train. Do you mind if I call you Jesus?" He smirked at that. He enjoyed this woman's witty sense of humour.

He pushed his glasses down onto his face, hoping she wouldn't comment, – although she had snorted – and pulled his car out of the parking space and out on the road. He drove at a steady pace, contemplating the reason she might've been apprehensive was because she might've suffered from car sickness. However, when she looked quite content sitting there, reclining into the passenger seat, he picked up a little speed.

He heard her stifle a giggle. He knew what it was about and decided to take it in good humour. "Something funny about my glasses?" He questioned jokingly.

"You look like a spy." She stated, taking in his attire once more. A suit, it looked like, only it was unbuttoned. "Or just someone trying to impress the ladies." He chuckled at that and she found herself surprised that he'd laugh in such a way. It was almost laughter of _his _surprise, like he found it absurd and that the thought had never once crossed his mind. It probably hadn't, she thought. From what she had gathered from her sources, – Ino, the know-it-all blonde – he _never _dated. 'He' being codenamed 'Eye Candy' by Ino.

_The Eye Candy never dates._Come to think of it, she had whined it more than said it.

_The Eye Candy is considered asexual, even._

And she supposed she could understand why he didn't. All the women were, well...not sluts but...kind of threw themselves all over him. A lot of guys in the college liked that, yes. But Itachi...something just told her he didn't. He seemed far too serious and mature to like the kind of one night stand business.

And Itachi could pretty much have _any _girl he wanted. She was sure even the professors had some less than professional thoughts about the Uchiha male. And who wouldn't? She would admit it – he was a sight for sore eyes. He was, to put it frankly, 'hot'. The face of an angel. He probably turned macho men gay, he was that goddamn fine.

"I can assure you, I have no one to impress." He finished chuckling and she missed the sound. It was deep and soothing, like you could melt in it.

"You've impressed me." She said quietly. When she realised that might be interpreted for her telling him about her thoughts of his 'hotness', she quickly added, "With your fancy-pants car."

If he noticed her awkward addition to her half compliment, he didn't say anything, and simply took in the road ahead of him.

He decided to glance to her, not needing to make himself see. He took in her attire before returning his attention to the road. She wore a very similar thing to last time he had been in her house. In fact, a very similar thing to the things she had been wearing when they stopped for small talk or passed in the corridors.

She seemed like a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of girl. That was his phrase. It was someone who didn't really care about their appearance, and just kind of wore jeans and t-shirts. And jackets. That was another common feature of the jeans-and-t-shirt crew.

He knew because, at heart, he was a jeans-and-t-shirt kid. Until his father had commented on his lack of clothing finesse, anyway. He had to make the family look good, he had said, therefore he must wear smart clothing. And he had hence taken him to the tailors. To get suited up and classy, because that's the way Uchiha men must be, he had added. And where, for some reason, – at the tailors, that is – a woman had measured him. With her hands roaming free over his form, lingering too long in places. He sniggered at the thought.

From the corner of his eye, where the blacked out glasses didn't cover, he could faintly spot her flimsy pale blur of an arm fidgeting against the light green of her bag. Whenever he darted his eyes back, he tried to focus more on what she was actually doing. He finally figured out what she was doing when he heard a click and then another before she started fiddling with something in her hand.

The prospect that he couldn't figure out what she was doing from his sight alone was a sad thought. It was almost a pride damaging thing. But most of all, it was frustrating.

It was frustrating, having leaned so heavily on his vision all these years – and it wasn't like it was just him that leaned on vision, almost everyone relied on their sight – and then nothing. The dull blurs and outlines of shapes. He wasn't everyone anymore. He could barely see past the blotted stained smears of colour. He couldn't rely on his eyesight anymore. His perception of the world was mostly just gathered through other senses and making himself see occasionally.

He sighed mutely. He could have just conspicuously turned his head and he would have known straight away and saved himself a whole lot of brooding. His prescribed black-out glasses would have helped. But he didn't want to be conspicuous. And, perhaps, he thought that his sight might've gotten better, considering the fact he hadn't been seeing for prolonged lengths of time anymore. He had definitely cut back. But...if anything, his sight was worse.

He glanced to the side again, trying to distinguish between the yellow and blue he knew the badge to contain. She had taken it off, heeding his earlier words that he was sure she'd have forgotten by now, and it was now dancing between her finger tips.

And he only knew this because he was _really_ concentrating and squinting. But all he could make out when straining was a blot of something standing out against the alabaster paleness of her skin. He couldn't even make out her differentiating finger tips. It was literally a mass of pale with a murky dark blot blended in at the stump of whiteness. He focused on the road once more.

In the absence of her arm holding her bag, it began to slip from her knees. She grabbed it before it had a chance to hit the floor, hands clasping the stiff green material. Something felt odd about her bag today. Like it was missing an aspect of something or another. She groped at the rigid pale jade fabric of her bag. After a moment's molestation of cloth, she realised what was wrong.

"Shit..." She muttered under her breath, nigh mutely. She wished she hadn't said it aloud because knowing the Uchiha next to her, he probably heard and would be asking what was wrong right about... Now.

"Something wrong?" She knew he would've. She barely heard herself whisper it. He must've had a heightened sense of hearing.

"I uhh... may or may not have forgotten my lunch. No big deal, though." She grinned sheepishly to him and took her purse from her bag, checking her balance. She went for the safe option and internally sighed when she looked at how much she had. It wasn't any big deal, but she hated missing meals, as it would usually make her peckish later on in the evening. She had about 200 yen. Too little for a sandwich. Maybe she could get a milkshake or something to fill her up.

When he heard the jingle of money as she counted it, he decided to see and count how much she had. He decided from how little she had in her purse that she probably had an annual train pass.

"One-hundred-and-seventy-five yen." He called out to her, calculating it quickly as she still added it up in her head. One 100; one 50; two 10s; one 5; he silently noted. He could almost feel the look of shock on her face, but added onto his previous statement before she could comment. "Too little to buy lunch." It was more of a side note than anything. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye – a nod of affirmation.

"Would you like to have lunch with me?" All innocent, all gentleman Itachi. But she almost choked on the question. It had come out of nowhere.

She knew she had forgotten her lunch before, back in high school. She remembered complaining to no one in particular while in the presence of her friends. Naruto had naturally jumped to asking her if she'd like to share, so she never really got to see a reaction from Sasuke. But that one time... Naruto was off sick or off doing something or the other – she couldn't quite recall. She remembered the feeling when she realised she had left her bento on the kitchen table. That feeling of, what, slight disappointment? She didn't forget her lunch often, about as often as anyone. But that feeling of disappointment completely washed away when she realised she'd get a reaction from Sasuke that day, due to Naruto's absence. Her dream come true! Sasuke-kun sharing his lunch with her! How awesome could the day get? She had money for whatever with her, but why would she go and buy lunch and pass up the opportunity?

She remembered she had told him: _Oh... it appears I've forgotten my lunch..._

And then he sniggered at her. Right in her face as he continued eating his own bento, not giving a shit about anyone but his worthy self. She watched him eat it, something akin to teary-eyed-puppy emotion written on her face. But she didn't care. She made an excuse. _Sasuke-kun is probably really hungry._He was never in the wrong to her. Never at fault in her childish eyes.

So before she knew what she was saying – the memory rushing over her and filling her up – the affirmative had already passed her lips. She quietly reprimanded herself at her impulsive speaking before adding, "Do you mind if I pay you back later? As you know, I've got virtually no money." He just laughed at her, then and there, for her stupid question.

"You're not paying me back." He informed her firmly, sans unkindly. She had a funny feeling that he'd say something like that. And it's not like she could tell him to forget about it altogether. He had made up his mind, and if she could say one thing, the trait of formidable stubbornness seemed to run in all Uchihas.

"You can't just buy for me." She replied back to his straight answer that should've left no room for contrary opinion.

"I can." Was his short reply, no humour hidden under it, deadpan serious. But she couldn't help but laugh, her musical tune filling up the car. As if on cue, he added, "And I will." That just drove her into further hysterics. Forbid an Uchiha from something and it was as good as done. As she continued to laugh, he felt himself smiling. Usually, if someone had have laughed at his serious demeanour, he would have given them _the look._The look that scared people away no matter how crazy brave or phony tough. But he couldn't.

As her laughter died down, she replied jokingly, "Whatever you say, Uchiha." She dropped the honorific off of his name, making her statement sound more banter like, but still formal as she addressed him by second name.

For the rest of the car journey, they went in a comfortable silence, occasionally commenting about how they had been to that restaurant, or how that house looked nice, how she'd definitely want a garden like that.

She had never travelled this route to Uni before, so she had only a vague idea of where they were from the few times she had been through the neighbourhoods they passed. The reason why she hadn't been on this route much is probably because she had never had her own chauffeur to taxi her about in a luxurious Jag. And it felt great. Not having to sit on a stuffy train where people's skin's stuck together from the sweaty proximity. Where she had to worry about train perverts and worry about how she could reprimand them physically without making a scene.

She had developed the perfect little method a few years ago, maybe two or three. They touch her up, she grabs their wrist, or arm, or whatever would keep them in one place. She would glare them down, making them stay routed to the spot with the intensity. Scare them off. If she was feeling exceptionally nasty that day, she'd hold them until it was her station, drag them off with her, and then '_reprimand them physically without making a scene_'.

The best thing about this journey, however, was not escaping from train perverts. It was the fact that it was a nice, comfortable, short drive. In fact, when she had glanced at her watch when they had started to drive, it had been around ten past eight. And now, as they drove in through the gates, just having passed the café with no sign, it was only half eight.

She just lost – not including the twenty five minutes it took her to walk from each station – around forty minutes on her travel time. She regretted having left so early. She would usually leave her house at around ten to seven, seven at a push. And now it was half eight, and she had an hour to kill – she usually got in around ten minutes early – before her first lecture.

Watching out the window, spotting all the people who watched the car drive to its usual parking space, recognising it indefinitely. Some of the people full on stopped to try to make out the other character seated in the passenger seat; others were a little more discreet, watching the car cruise past from the corner of their eye. She found it all quite humorous, especially when she distinguished some of the faces she knew. Even funnier when it clicked in their head who was sitting in the passenger seat of his car; that brief expression of '_Sakura?_' etched onto their face as the car skimmed by them.

She had to stifle a laugh as they passed Ino, though. She was the cherry on the cake. It was a mixture of her waving/jumping/doing a weird flailing movement with her entire body while trying to yell something at her. She probably wanted to be 'filled in'.

It felt like she was back in high school again, trying to fit in with the popular clique.

Itachi reversed in to his usual parking space, the one that no one seemed to take. Probably because he had made it a habit to park there. Turning the keys and taking them out of the ignition, the engine's rev hummed and faded into nothingness.

"I'll escort you to lunch. If you tell me what lecture hall you're in, of course." He told her offhandedly as he made a move to get out of the car.

She undid her seatbelt, listening to the unfamiliar click, and suddenly, he was there. Again being the gentleman and opening the door for her. The differences were quite stark between the two brothers, she once again noted.

Sasuke – _Get the fuck out of the car. Hn.__  
_Itachi – _Oh, no, don't worry, I'll get the door for you. Escort you to lunch. Buy for you. Don't pay me back. It's fine._

Standing, he moved to the side and let her get out of the car before shutting her door and locking the vehicle.

"And if I refuse to tell you?" She smirked daringly at him.

He was going to say the first thing that jumped into his mouth, but he bit his tongue. He would have told her he would just ask Sasuke, but he had a funny feeling that that choice of path would have a bad outcome on both their parts. When was it like him to not think before he spoke, anyway?

She noticed a glare. She noticed being noticed by the other Uchiha brother. He was locking up his car or doing something not so noteworthy a few cars distance away. She didn't even know what car he drove, let alone that he'd passed his test. She didn't remember the last time she'd willingly chatted. He was staring intently, questioning with his eyes why she was with his aniki. Why she was with the man he hated. Sakura was meant to be his little possession, Itachi wasn't even meant to know her. She wanted to snicker in his face at the thought.

"I'll have to hunt you down." He replied casually, listening to her giggle. She forgot all about the other Uchiha and just let Itachi's mock seriousness wash over her. He couldn't keep the straight face as she laughed, and so he felt his own lips form something akin to a smile.

Sakura was amused by the expression of sheer shock on Sasuke's face as he gaped at his brother's lips being tugged up.

He looked more than dumbstruck.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the other franchises, etc. mentioned.**

**A/N:: **I can definitely picture Itachi driving a Jag or an Audi.

Also, please forgive me, I'm not entirely sure how Uni works, so I'm using a bit of a poetic license.

Are you a jeans-and-t-shirt kid? I am :)

I really can't decide if I like Sasuke or not... we have this love-hate relationship going on.

All information was obtained via The Official Character Data Book, which I purchased at a con the other day and am in love with.

Please give a huge thanks to my beta-reader, XxDreaming of RealityxX, who is an absolutely awesome person.

Reviews keep me writing :)

**—xl3utterflyx**


	3. Chapter 3

**III |** Three

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If Sasuke Uchiha was one thing, it was an asshole. A complete and utter ass. He was indifferent to most things, like his older brother. No...it wasn't indifference – he _hated_everything. She couldn't help but muse over Sasuke's face as his brother smiled. Surprise, borderline 'the-actual-fuck' face, was an emotion she doubted she ever see on the young Uchiha's face again.

She'd heard about Itachi and his indifference towards everything, but she concluded herself that everyone was exaggerating about it, as she couldn't see the emotionless. It was more like...him shutting people out.

_The Eye Candy is like...heartless.__  
__The Eye Candy has never even heard of happiness.__  
__It's okay, because he's the hottest thing to walk this planet._

It was just Ino and her silly stories. However...she did have to admit that Sasuke's surprise did back up her arguments towards his aloofness. And so, she was complying as Ino asked to be 'filled in'. Sakura wanted information too, without having to directly ask, so talking to Ino was the best sure-fire way to hear some of her 'info'.

"You were in Itachi Uchiha's car...ugh, you were so close. How come you didn't jump him, girl?!" She asked in mindless disbelief. Best to play along with Ino's antics; she was like walking on eggshells. You didn't know whether option A, or B would crack her.

"Self-control, Ino, self-control." She joked, which made Ino laugh. Good thing she knew she was joking. If she hadn't taken it jokingly, Sakura would never have heard the end of it - '_So you do like Itachi?'_- as she would text everyone on her contact list. If people, specifically Ino's bitchy friends, thought her and Itachi were close, they would stop at nothing to become her _best_friend.

_Quickest way to any eye candy is through his friends._

"God...he's so frickin' hot... What does he smell like?" And that made Sakura want to snigger. Sakura would tell Ino, and Ino would go and tell her bitchy friends that she knew what Itachi Uchiha smelt like because they'd gotten intimate...or something like that. She'd never understand.

"Uhh...I guess he smells clean." Ino's girly laughter could once again be heard. The professor never usually let them discuss things in groups, and hearing laughter was definitely not a sign on discussion. He sent them a look and Ino's laughter ceased.

"Well, I guess that's good. Most guys here have probably never heard of deodorant..." She usually disagreed with Ino. She actually did on this one. Ino would never know the feeling of actually training hard with men. There was just something...so masculine about it. That smell of masculinity was, however, only acceptable then. She'd hardly voice her opinions to Ino though. Because Ino always had to be right and also she wouldn't understand.

"Green tea." Sakura said whilst breathing deep and closing her eyes, trying to concentrate on the scent. She could almost feel Ino's confused expression watching her face. "He smells like green tea." She clarified for the bemused Ino.

"Ugh, he must be into Café-hopping and all that traditional stuff...I want a HUNK!" She seemed to put an emphasis on the word 'hunk'. Sakura had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying some snarky comment that Ino wouldn't even understand. "Why are all the hotties dorks? Ugh...but goddamn, imagine under that shirt. I would. I just would." She seemed to make some vaguely sexual noise before upturning her lips.

"Haha, I can only imagine." Sakura covered up her true facial expression with a smile. She really wanted to give Ino the ugliest face she had ever made and tell her everything about what she really thought.

_'The Eye Candy' is the nicest, most genuine guy I've ever met. I'm sorry you're into assholes, but can you just stop being a bitch?_

But she didn't. She continued to be subservient Sakura, who never spoke her mind for fear of the chaos that followed having an opinion.

"What? Do you like him or something?" Ino was a minefield. You thought you were agreeing, saying what she wanted to hear, but then she took it the wrong way. This time she would be careful where she would tread.

"Yeah, he seems pretty cool." Ino nearly face-palmed at what she thought was Sakura being oblivious. She was, however, simply dancing carefully around the topic. This was Ino she was talking to here.

"Gosh, Sakura, I mean do you think he's hot? Your innocence is so cute sometimes..." Ino mused to herself whilst chuckling.

"I suppose he's good looking, yeah." Ino seemed to look unimpressed and Sakura was glad. It was better to have Ino unimpressed than thinking that Sakura more than liked him. Because once Ino thought subject A was interested in subject B, she'd never shut up about it. However, it wasn't as if Sakura was lying. Itachi Uchiha was a generally very attractive man.

"Just good looking? C'mon forehead – the man's a sex god!" She was generally unimpressed with Ino's choice of words. Ino still liked to use her nickname from when she was twelve, and that reminded her – and she was sure it reminded other people too – about her mindlessness. Her 'I-love-Sasuke-kun'-ness. It had been scratching on her nerves a lot more than usual; her paranoia and almost-fear of people putting the words 'Haruno Sakura' and 'fangirl' into the same sentence. She didn't want it to be that way. She wanted 'independent', 'strong'.

Ino sighed at her before whispering to her in a serious questioning tone, "You guys have already had sex, right?" Sakura made a strange sound at Ino, and she looked confused. It was if the answer was going to be such a resounding 'yes' in Ino's mind that it was rhetorical to her.

"No, Ino. I have not had sex with him." Sakura said in a sterner manner than she'd have liked. She shrugged it off and supposed it would help it get into Ino's head a bit better if she was completely straight with her answers.

"Well then, why aren't you trying to get into his pants, girl?! ITACHI UCHIHA'S BOXERS?!" Ino had shouted it, and now everyone, including the balding professor, was staring at them. Sakura pursed her lips together – there was simply a certain amount on Ino you could take per day. She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, hoping that everyone would stop staring at them. _Correction,_hoping that everyone would stop staring at her – Ino loved the attention, even if it came from things like discussing Itachi Uchiha's boxers.

"Ladies," the professor spoke out from the side of the room, "I'd rather you discuss why lobotomies are no longer in practice than 'Itachi Uchiha's _boxers_'." He seemed to put emphasis on the word 'boxers'. He was trying to show them that it was certainly not an appropriate topic to discuss in class. But heck, Sakura didn't think it was an appropriate topic to discuss _anywhere_. She didn't want to know about, or be a part of, Itachi Uchiha's sex life. Or know about his boxers, as a matter of fact.

She could hear the sniggers and whispers of gossip beginning. Well, actually, the gossiping began that morning, as soon as she had stepped out of Itachi's car. In fact, no. Whilst she was still in the car people were talking. She couldn't care less about rumours. It's not as if they were true, anyway. But what she was most worried about was that people might think that she was just taking Itachi as an easy alternative to Sasuke. She could care, and would care, if anyone spread a rumour like that. She didn't want anything to do with the young Uchiha. When she had fist started talking to Itachi, she hadn't even known he had anything to do with Sasuke. She would have preferred it that way, too – she wished she could have remained oblivious to the fact that they were not only related, but siblings.

Everyone seemed to laugh at the professor's words, including Ino, and all Sakura could do was nod and try to seem like she wasn't agitated. "Yes, Ino. Let's stop." Sakura told Ino, voice dripping with sarcasm. She was pretty sure that the other students in the room took it as though they weren't going to stop, but continue. She really didn't mean it like that.

But boy, it sure was going to be a long lesson.

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She was right, and by the end of the class, her head was spinning. In her lunch, was her water bottle, and she needed that now. She certainly couldn't wait any longer to eat.

She collected her books up and bid farewell to Ino, who walked off, texting with her bitchy friends. Everyone filed out of the lecture hall, taking no notice of the pinkette standing off to the side of the door, waiting to be picked up for lunch.

Everyone had left and she enjoyed the silence, it made her headache let up a little. She contemplated her lunch with Itachi, feeling annoyed with herself that he was paying. She felt like she was taking what he was doing for granted. She just didn't know how to say thank you, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

She looked up from her thought processes and saw a familiar face coming down the hall. _Shit_, she thought to herself. She pulled out her phone from her jean pocket and began browsing it without intent, playing the old pretending to text trick. The figure stopped beside her, but she still didn't look up from her phone. She _didn't _want to converse with this man. Man? He was still a childish boy in her eyes.

"Sakura." He addressed, attempting to get her attention. She sighed before acknowledging him, still not looking up from her phone.

"Uchiha-san." Her tone was level, revealing not that she didn't want to speak, but not giving a false impression that she was hungry for his presence. She had completely distanced him, however, with her use of his family name.

"Using the old pretending to text trick, are we?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and she bit her lip, trying to refrain from biting out at him.

"What do you want?" She closed her phone before sliding it neatly into her pocket, still not looking at him, still biting the inside of her lip.

"Why won't you look at me?" He asked her, in either agitation or sadness. Definitely the former in her book. In defiance, she looked directly up into his eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a conversation, let alone made eye contact with the man-child. Although she could vaguely remember the conversation being not a conversation, instead a heated argument in which she told him to never speak to her again. He was breaking that mutual agreement now, asking pointless questions.

"_What do you want?"_She asked in clear annoyance, not taking her eyes off of him. He didn't look taken aback at her dry attitude, which meant he definitely understood the heated argument they had many years ago.

"Stay away from my brother." He told her, point blank. She wasn't sure if she was offended or very curious as Sasuke ordered her. Curiosity prevailed as she questioned him.

"What are you talking about?" She shook her head, wishing she'd never accepted his offer to 'converse'. She could see this conversation turning sour, very quickly.

"Just..." he gritted his teeth together, looking something akin to annoyed, "He's dangerous, okay?" Sakura looked unconvinced and unruffled by his words before he added on to his statement.

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

And that was it. For her, she was done. The sound erupted, letting lose the cascade of cackling, dry laughter. She dived into hysterics, her stomach muscles tightening, contracting, so much that it began to hurt. She cracked up, cracked open – him. Sasuke Uchiha – what a funny, flippant man-child. She calmed down enough to look at his face. The best thing about it was, his face was deadpan, and almost annoyed that she was laughing.

"What is this? Some sort of joke?" She asked, smile still plastered to her face. Her headache was gone, and she was set up for a good mood the rest of the day.

"Why would I be joking?" Oh, he was angry, Sakura mused. Even better.

"Why do you care about what I do?" She shook her head again. This was too much.

"Why do you keep answering a question with a question?" He snapped at her. She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You did it first." She folded her arms, body language displaying what she felt about him. "Why do you care about what I do?" She once again repeated, slowly for the man-child. When he didn't reply, simply looked away, she continued. "You never gave a shit about my existence before. So why the sudden change in attitude? If this is some sort of attempt at redemption, you're a little late. Or if this is because you don't want your brother–"

"It's not like that!" He snapped again, interrupting her. Sakura shook her head for the third time, in disgust. She grabbed her bag from where she'd left it on the floor and proceeded to turn away. He reached out for her wrist before she was able to go.

"Wait, Sakura. Let me just ex- Uh!" Before he could finish speaking, Sakura had made it so his arm was twisted and he was no longer the one with the grip.

"I swear to god. I cut you out of my life for a reason. If you do not leave me alone, I swear, by the gods, I will break your fucking arm, Uchiha." She seethed at him. So much for the good mood. "Do you understand?"

"I do." He told her through closed teeth, trying to cope with the pain of having his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. "But please, I'm asking for a minute to explain." Sakura let go and once again folded her arms over her chest. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, as if telling him he had a single minute. "He may play the nice guy act, but I swear to you now, he's evil and will do _anything_to appease our father. He'll play with you until my father isn't happy that he's seeing an outsider and will cut all ties to you. I don't–"

"That's enough." She told him. "I've heard enough. Please keep your possessiveness to yourself and continue walking down the hall." He looked at her pleadingly, but she was having none of it and sent him a glare. He sighed before giving her a shallow bow and continuing on down the hall. Before he was completely out of earshot, she called out to him, "It's Haruno-san." He glanced back with a hurt look in his eyes and Sakura felt satisfied. He had given up the right to call her by her first name long ago.

She tried to suppress the absolute anger welling up inside of her, the feeling of satisfaction completely dwindling into nothing. Sasuke shouldn't have had such an effect on her. She promised herself years ago that she would become absolutely indifferent to his very existence. And yet...this feeling. It was so strong and overpowering, like she needed to destroy him entirely.

She couldn't even believe she had snapped like that. She had never done that to anyone in her life, but it felt right to do at the time. It felt like her instincts taking control of her entire body as if she should have been defending herself from an attacker. Except Sasuke wasn't an attacker and she wasn't defending herself. That was just pure intimidation.

She felt a tickle on her cheek and went to scratch it but found that a tear was the cause of the itch. She couldn't believe herself, feeling such an overwhelming anger that she had lost control of her emotions. She could only compare it to how some people laughed at funerals, having let go of the steering wheel on their emotions. She was angry, so why was she so pathetic as to cry? She bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard that she soon tasted blood. She was just angry at herself. So caught up in the whirlwind of her feelings, she did not hear asset of footsteps approaching.

"Haruno-san?" He questioned in a worried tone. She recognised the voice immediately and thanked herself that she wasn't sobbing. She wiped away another tear that had fallen before turning to greet him. He looked something like shocked or worried to see the red stains adorning her cheeks.

"Uchiha-sama." She laughed at his expression before continuing, "Yeah, I know I probably look like a PMS-ing idiot, but I just had an eyelash in my eye." She continued to rub her eye for effect but Itachi did not look convinced in the slightest.

"In both of them?" He questioned, trying to catch her out. She definitely hadn't expected the Uchiha to chase her up on it. She smacked her lips before replying in a slightly sarcastic manner.

"Yes." He quirked an eyebrow at her before offering out his arm. She stared at his arm momentarily before looking up at him, trying to decipher what he was doing. He could see the bemused gleam in her eyes before he clarified what he was doing.

"Can I walk a lady to lunch?" He asked in a jokingly courting way. She chuckled at him, but he seemed unresponsive, continuing the chivalrous-medieval-English-man act.

"You're crazy." She told him, shaking her head in disbelief. It seemed as though her turmoil of emotions was just washed away with his very presence, him just being there.

"Maybe so, but..." He gestured to his arm by nodding his head; invitation still open; RSVP. She stared at him in joking – only slightly, part of her was serious that he would be doing this – scepticism.

"Why the heck not?" She rolled her eyes before latching on and looping around his outstretched arm.

Maybe she ought to take that attitude on life.

_Why the heck not?_

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the other franchises, etc. mentioned.**

**A/N:: **Thank you all so much for your reviews and favourites, and follows. It really means so much to know that people are actually reading this, and it also got added to a community... like holy shit.

I know that the chapters updates are slow, but I'm just going to lay the pussy on the table right now: This is genuinely not my priority and I'll only be writing it when I have the time or am bored. I find it really hard to get my mojo and the creative juices flowing, so when I do, I add to each chapter.

But I hope you'll all be willing to put up with the tardiness.

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**—xl3utterflyx**


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